"When should lovers breathe their vows?

When should ladies hear them?

When the dew is on the boughs,

When none else is near them."

Whether the dew was on the boughs, or not, I could not tell; but it

was certain that none else was near us. With the rapidity of thought

I jumped out of bed, upsetting a jug full of half-frozen water, which

splashed all over, every wretch of an icicle penetrating to my very

marrow, but not cooling the ardour of my love. After knocking my head

in the dark against every object in the room, and cutting my shins in

various places, I at last succeeded in finding my dressing-gown knee

smalls, and slippers, and, so clad, presented myself at the top of the

staircase before the barmaid. She was leaning over the balustrade,

looking down through the deep well after the departing stranger, whose

final exit was announced by the slamming of the gate after him by the

porter. I could not help thinking of Fanny Kemble in the balcony scene

of Romeo and Juliet.

She sighed, and I stood forward.

"Oh!" she screamed. "Lor' have mercy upon us! what's this?"

"Be not afraid," said I, "Sarah; I am no ghost."

"Oh, no," said she, recovering, "I didn't suppose you were; but I

thought you were a Guy Fawkes."

"No, angelic girl, I am not a Guy Fawkes; another flame is mine!" and I

caught her hand, endeavouring to apply it to my lips.

"Get along, you old----" I am not quite certain what the angelic Sarah

called me; but I think it was a masculine sheep, or a goat.

"Sarah!" said I, "let me press this fair hand to my lips."

Sarah saved me the trouble. She gave me--not a lady's "slap," which

we all know is rather an encouragement than otherwise,--but a very

vigorous, well-planted, scientific blow, which loosened my two

fore-teeth; and then skipped up stairs, shut herself in her room, and

locked the door.

I followed, stumbled up stairs, and approached in the dark towards

the keyhole, whence shone the beams of her candle. I was about to

explain that innocence had nothing to fear from me, when a somewhat

unintelligible scuffling up the stairs was followed by a very

intelligible barking. The house-dog, roused by the commotion, was

abroad,--an animal more horrid even than the schoolmaster,--and,

before I could convey a word as to the purity of my intentions, he

had caught me by the calf of the leg so as to make his cursed fangs

meet in my flesh, and bring the blood down into my slippers. I do not

pretend to be Alexander or Julius Cæsar, and I confess that my first

emotion, when the brute let me loose for a moment, and prepared, with

another fierce howl, for a fresh invasion of my personal comforts,

was to fly,--I had not time to reflect in what direction; but, as my

enemy came from below, it was natural that my flight should be upwards.

Accordingly, up stairs I stumbled as I could, and the dog after me,

barking and snapping every moment, fortunately without inflicting any

further wound. I soon reached the top of the staircase, and, as further

flight was hopeless, I was obliged to throw myself astride across the

balustrade, which was high enough to prevent him from getting at me

without giving himself more inconvenience than it seems he thought the

occasion called for.

Here was a situation for a respectable citizen, tobacconist, and

gallant! The darkness was intense; but I knew by an occasional snappish

bark whenever I ventured to stir, or to make the slightest noise, that

the dog was couching underneath me, ready for a spring. The thermometer

must have been several yards beneath the freezing point, and I had

nothing to guard me from the cold but a night-gown and shirt. I was

barelegged and barefooted, having lost my slippers in the run. The

uneasy seat on which I was perched was as hard as iron, and colder than

ice. I had received various bruises in the adventures of the last few

minutes, but I forgot them in the smarting pain of my leg, rendered

acute to the last degree by exposure to the frost. And then I knew

perfectly well, that, if I did not keep my seat with the dexterity

of a Ducrow, I was exposed by falling on one side to be mangled by a

beast of a dog watching my descent with a malignant pleasure, and, on

the other, to be dashed to pieces by tumbling down from the top to the

bottom of the house. The sufferings of Mazeppa were nothing compared to

mine. He was, at least, safe from all danger of falling off his unruly

steed. They had the humanity to tie him on.

Here I remained, with my bedroom candle in my hand,--I don't know

how long, but it seemed an eternity,--until at length the dog began

to retire by degrees, backwards, like the champion's horse at the

coronation of George the Fourth, keeping his eyes fixed upon me all the

time. I watched him with intense interest as he slowly receded down the

stairs. He stopped a long time peeping over one stair so that nothing

of him was visible but his two great glaring eyes, and then they

disappeared. I listened. He had gone.

I gently descended; cold and wretched as I was, I actually smiled as I

gathered my dressing-gown about me, preparatory to returning to bed.

Hark! He was coming back again, tearing up the stairs like a wild bull.

I caught sight of his eyes. With a violent spring I caught at and

climbed to the top of an old press that stood on the landing, just as

the villanous animal reared himself against it, scratching and tearing

to get at me, and gnashing his teeth in disappointment. Such teeth too!

"Why, what is the matter?" cried the beauteous Sarah, opening her

chamber door, and putting forth a candle and a nightcap.

"Sarah, my dear!" I exclaimed, "call off the dog, lovely vision!"

"Get along with you!" said Sarah; "and don't call me a lovely vision,

or I'll scream out of my window into the street. It serves you right!"

"Serves me right, Sarah!" I exclaimed, in a voice which I am quite

certain was very touching. "You'll not leave me here, Sarah; look, look

at this dreadful animal!"

"You're a great deal safer there than anywhere else," said Sarah; and

she drew in her head again, and locked the door, leaving me and the dog

gazing at each other with looks of mutual hatred.

How long I continued in this position I feel it impossible to guess;

It appeared to me rather more than the duration of a whole life. I was

not even soothed by the deep snoring which penetrated from the sleeping

apartment of the fair cause of all my woes, and indicated that she was

in the oblivious land of dreams.

I suppose I should have been compelled to await the coming of daylight,

and the wakening of the household, before my release from my melancholy

situation, if fortune had not so far favoured me as to excite, by way

of diversion, a disturbance below stairs, which called off my guardian

fiend. I never heard a more cheerful sound than that of his feet

trotting down stairs; and, as soon as I ascertained that the coast was

clear, I descended, and tumbled at once into bed, much annoyed both in

mind and body. The genial heat of the blankets, however, soon produced

its natural effect, and I forgot my sorrows in slumber. When I woke

it was broad daylight,--as broad, I mean, as daylight condescends to

be in December,--an uneasy sensation surprised me. Had I missed the

coach? Devoting the waiters to the infernal gods, I put my hand under

my pillow for my watch; but no watch was there. Sleep was completely

banished from my eyes, and I jumped out of bed to make the necessary

inquiries; when, to my additional horror and astonishment, I found my

clothes also had vanished. I rang the bell violently, and summoned the

whole _posse comitatûs_ of the house, whom I accused, in the loftiest

tones, of misdemeanors of all descriptions. In return, I was asked

who and what I was, and what brought me there; and one of the waiters

suggested an instant search of the room, as he had shrewd suspicions

that I was the man with the carpet-bag, who went about robbing hotels.

After a scene of much tumult, the appearance of Boots at last cut the

knot. I was, it seems, "No. 12, wot was to ha' gone by the Edenbry

coach at six o'clock that morning, but wot had changed somehow into No.

11, wot went at four."

"And why," said I, "didn't you knock at No. 12?"

"So I did," said Boots; "I knocked fit to wake the dead, and, as there

warn't no answer, I didn't like to wake the living; I didn't knock no

more, 'specially as Sarah----"

"What of Sarah?" I asked in haste.

"--'Specially as Sarah was going by at the time, and told me not to

disturb you, for she knowd you had been uneasy in the night, and wanted

a rest in the morning."

"I waited for no further explanation, but rushed to my room, and

dressed myself as fast as I could, casting many a rueful glance on my

dilapidated countenance, and many a reflection equally rueful on the

adventures of the night.

My place was lost, and the money I paid for it; that was certain: but

going to Edinburgh was indispensable. I proceeded, therefore, to book

myself again; and, on doing so, found Joe Grabble in the coffee-room

talking to Sarah. He had returned, like Paul Pry, in quest of his

umbrella, or something else he had forgotten the night before, and I

arrived just in time to hear him ask if I was off. The reply was by no

means flattering to my vanity.

"I do not know nothink about him," said the indignant damsel, "except

that, whether he's off or on, he's a nasty old willin."

"Hey-day, Peter!" exclaimed Joe. "So you are not gone? What is this

Sarah says about you?"

"May I explain," said I, approaching her with a bow, "fair Sarah?"

"I don't want your conversation at no price," was the reply. "You're an

old wretch as I wouldn't touch with a pair of tongs!"

"Hey-day!" cried Joe. "This is not precisely the character you

expected. The rump and dozen----"

But the subject is too painful to be pursued. My misfortunes were,

however, not yet at an end. I started that evening by the mail. We had

not got twenty miles from town when the snow-storm began. I was one

of its victims. The mail stuck somewhere in Yorkshire, where we were

snowed up and half starved for four days, and succeeded only after a

thousand perils, the details of which may be read most pathetically

related in the newspapers of the period, in reaching our destination.

When there, I lost little time in repairing to our agent,--a W.S. of

the name of M'Cracken,--who has a handsome flat in Nicholson-street,

not far from the College. He welcomed me cordially; but there was

something dolorous in his tone, nevertheless.

"Sit ye down, Master Gayless; sit ye down, and tak' a glass o' wine; it

wull do ye guid after yer lang and cauld journey. I hae been looking

for ye for some days."

"What about the house of Screw and Longcut?" I inquired, with much

anxiety.

"I am vera sorry to say, naething guid."

"Failed?"

"Why, jest that; they cam' down three days ago. They struggled an'

struggled, but it wad no do."

"What is the state of their affairs?"

"Oh! bad--bad--saxpence in the pund forby. But, why were you no here by

the cotch o' whilk ye advised me. That cotch cam' in safe eneuch; and

it puzzled me quite to see yer name bookit in the waybill, an' ye no

come. I did no ken what to do. I suppose some accident detained you?"

"It was indeed an accident," replied I faintly, laying down my untasted

glass.

"I hope it's of nae consequence elsewhere," said M'Cracken, "because

it is unco unlucky _here_; for if ye had been in E'nbro' on the

Saturday, I think--indeed I am sure--that we wad hae squeezed ten or

twelve shillings in the pund out o' them,--for they were in hopes o'

remittances to keep up; but, when the Monday cam', they saw the game

was gane, and they are now clane dished. So you see, Mr. Gayless, ye're

after the fair."

"After the _fair_, indeed," said I; for men can pun even in misery.

What my man of business told me, proved to be true. The dividend will

not be sixpence in the pound, and it is more than six hundred and

fifty pounds odd out of my pocket. I had the expense (including that

of a lost place) of a journey to Edinburgh and back for nothing. I was

snowed up on the road, and frozen up on the top of a staircase. I lost

a pair of teeth, and paid the dentist for another. I was bumped and

bruised, bullied by a barmaid, and hunted by a dog. I paid my rump and

dozen amid the never-ending jokes of those who were eating and drinking

them; and I cannot look forward to the next dog-days without having

before my eyes the horrors of hydrophobia.

Such was my last love!

MY FATHER'S OLD HALL.

BY MRS. CORNWELL BARON WILSON.

I.

Though the dreams of ambition are faded and o'er,

And the world with its glitter can charm us no more;

Tho' the sunbeams of fancy less vividly play,

And in reason's calm twilight are melting away;

Still thought loves to wander, entranced in the maze

Of the joys and the hopes of those earlier days.

Fond mem'ry delights life's best moments to call

In the scene of my childhood, my Father's Old Hall!

II.

Oh! light were the hearts which have met 'neath the dome

Of that once gaily throng'd, but now desolate home;

And light were the spirits that crowded the hearth

Of social enjoyment and innocent mirth;

When the laugh echo'd round at the wit-sparkling jest,

And the roses of innocence bloom'd in each breast;

Whose fragrance, once shed, Time can never recall,

Like the garlands we wreath'd round my Father's Old Hall!

III.

Now scatter'd, dispers'd, 'mid the heartless and proud,

Where wander the steps of that once happy crowd?

Some have toil'd the steep rock towards the temple of Fame,

To snatch from her altars a wreath and a name;

Some have sought honour's death on the field or the wave;

Some have found in the land of the stranger _a grave_!

The chain is now broken, the links sever'd all,

That united the hearts in my Father's Old Hall!

PORTRAIT GALLERY.--No. IV.

CANNON FAMILY.--JOURNEY TO BOULOGNE.

When Alexander the Great was gazetted commander-in-chief of the

Macedonian forces, and was concocting the eighteen manœuvres at the

Horse-guards of that celebrated country; when he was about fighting

Darius, Xerxes, and Porus; when Cæsar was invading Gaul and Britain;

when the Benedictine monks were compiling "_L'Art de verifier les

dates_;" when Sterne was writing Tristram Shandy; when Burton was

anatomizing melancholy; when the companions of Columbus were puzzling

their brains to find out how an egg could stand on end; when Mrs. Glass

was concocting her cookery-book, and Bayle his dictionary; their minds

were as smooth and as calm as a fish-pond, a milk-bowl, a butter-boat,

an oil-cruet, compared with the speculative and prospective anxieties

of all the Cannons as they were rattled on towards Dover, on their

way to the land of promise, where milk and honey were to be found

flowing,--longevity in apothecaries' shops,--modesty purchased at

milliners' counters,--and decorum taught by opera-dancers. In these

Utopian dreams, England was considered an uninhabitable region of fogs,

mists, tyranny, corruption, consumption, and chilblains; the fate of

Nineveh was denounced on London,--the modern Babylon; and, had it been

burning from Chelsea bun-house to Aldgate pump, and from the Elephant

and Castle to the Wheatsheaf at Paddington, the Cannons would not have

dared to cast "a lingering look behind them" without dreading the lot

of the Lots.

After their due share of impositions, thanks and curses, maledictions

or valedictions, as they had been "genteel" or "shabby" with waiters,

chambermaids, boots, porters, postilions, and hostlers on the road,

the party arrived at Dover, and of course "put up," or rather, were

"put down," at the Ship. But here fresh reasons for abhorring England

were in store. When the waiters saw the arms of the Cannons on their

panels, and the dragon, and the motto "_Crepo_," they all crowded round

the travellers; but, like many apparently good things in this world,

the inside of the fruit did not appear as attractive as its external

bloom; and as the Cannons tumbled out, or jumped out, or rolled out, or

staggered out of their vehicles, with all sorts of parcels and bundles,

in brown and whity-brown paper, and pocket-handkerchiefs of silk and

of cotton, without any of those neat and elegant cases containing all

sorts of necessary articles for travellers in health or in sickness,

and which form an invariable part of fashionable travellers' luggage,

the waiters and the lookers-on seemed to consider the Cannons with

looks that, without much knowledge of physiognomy, might have been

interpreted "These people have no business here." They were reluctantly

shown into a parlour, and to bed-rooms at the top of the house, with

the usual formal apology, "Sorry, ma'am, we can't afford better

accommodation; our house is quite full: the Duke of Scratchenburg

and his suet is just come over from Germany, and the Prince of Hesse

Humbuginstein is hourly looked for. Coming--going--coming--oh, Lord,

what a life! going--going directly!"

The Cannons were hungry; dinner was ordered _immediately_. Now it was

the height of presumption--nay, of impudence--on the part of a hungry

citizen, without courier or _valet de chambre_, or supporters to his

arms, to make use of such an aristocratic adverb. _Immediately_ implies

servitude, slavery, servility, at the nod of a master,--ay, and of an

accidental master, an interloper in command. Is a free-born Englishman

to run helter-skelter up and down stairs at the risk of breaking his

neck, to hurry the cook, to expose himself to a forfeit of one shilling

(not being a gentleman) by swearing and cursing in the teeth of the 19

Geo. 2. c. 21, when the cook tells the officious waiter not to bother

him, or, if the weather is hot and the fire is fierce, bids him, by a

natural association of ideas, to go to h--; and all this because an

ex-tallow-chandler is hungry, and wants an _immediate_ dinner! Forbid

it, glorious constitution! forbid it, bill of rights!

Old Commodus Cannon pulled the bell until the rope remained in his

hand unconnected with its usual companion; for be it known for the

information of impatient voyagers, that in modest apartments the said

ropes are only attached by slender ties, which give way when vigorously

jerked, that servants may not be disturbed. At last a waiter, bearing

in his knitted brows the apprehension of a miserable shilling "tip" on

departure, came in to inform the party that dinner would be served as

soon as possible, but that the Duke of Scratchenburg and Prince Hesse

Humbuginstein's dinners busied every hand in the house; but, if the

gentlemen _chose_, there was a hot joint serving up in the coffee-room.

Cannon was outrageous, and swore that he would go to another hotel.

"You are perfectly welcome to do so, sir, if you like."

"I'll represent your behaviour to all our friends!" exclaimed Mrs.

Cannon.

"None of our acquaintance shall ever put up in this house," added Miss

Cannon.

"Then, ladies," replied the waiter, with a ludicrous heavy sigh, "we

shall be obliged to shut up shop!"

At last an apology for a dinner was served; beefsteaks, potatoes, and

a gooseberry tart. No oyster sauce!--the last oyster had been served

to his Grace! No fish!--the last turbot had been served to his Serene

Highness!

"Your port wine and your sherry are execrable!"

"His Grace thought them excellent."

Cannon was bubbling over, but he philosophized over a glass of punch;

and his family comforted themselves, over a cup of tea, with the

thoughts of their speedy departure from "horrible England."

Peter Cannon complained in the coffee-room of the treatment they had

experienced, and he felt not a little annoyed when his interlocutor,

a perfect stranger, observed that "they would have been much more

comfortable had they put up at a second or third-rate hotel." They

seemed created for wanton insult. Cornelius Cannon strolled out to

inquire if there was anything to be seen in Dover; an insolent groom

told him that, if he would go up to the Castle, he might see "a _rum

cannon_" that carried a ball to Calais. Had he been a gentleman,

Cornelius must have called him out, for he fancied that the term "_rum

cannon_" had been a personality.

The next morning the packet was to sail. Here again fresh outrages were

heaped upon them. They were asked for the keys of their trunks, to be

examined at the custom-house!

"Why, what the deuce do they fancy I can have to export?" exclaimed

Commodus Cannon.

"Why, sir, perhaps it might be some machinery."

There was something wantonly offensive in the insinuation that a

man like Mr. Commodus Cannon should smuggle out a steam-engine, an

improved loom, or a paper-mill, in his luggage! What could have been

the cause of all these indignities? Simply this, as it was subsequently

discovered: Sam Surly, being hungry, and not over nice, despite a

brown and gold-laced red-collared livery, and military cockade, had

gone to the _tap_ to enjoy a pull of half-and-half; and, unaccustomed

to travel, had gone into the kitchen for some "victuals," instead of

joining the board of the other under-gentlemen in the house. On the

other hand, Sukey Simper, both for the sake of comfort and economy, had

brought with her a bottle of rum, and some loaf-sugar wrapped up in

brown paper, and, having been shown to her attic quarters, forthwith

prepared a potation to refresh herself after her journey: neither being

aware that it is part and parcel of a servant's duty in a respectable

family to run up a heavy score at their master's expense. Now, Sam

Surly had also picked up an old Yorkshire acquaintance, with whom

he repaired to another eating-house, where, over a bowl of generous

_humpty-dumpty_, Sam was prevailed upon to take charge of a _small

parcel_ of little articles for a present at Boulogne, and, to avoid

paying _freight_, he was recommended to conceal the said trifles in his

capacious corduroy unmentionables.

As Messrs. Cannons were perambulating the streets of Dover, they

observed sundry gentlemen, some of them lords, wearing sailors'

jackets and hats, and they therefore determined to turn out in a

marine costume; for which purpose they hied to a Jew slop-seller

for their outfit. Mr. Cannon, senior, donned a pea-coatie, with a

pair of ample blue trousers, and a glazed hat with a jaunty riband;

while his sons soon strutted about the town in yacht-club uniforms,

with their hands knowingly thrust in the pockets of their jackets,

resplendent with anchored buttons. They felt satisfied that they had

produced "the desired effect," for every one stared at them as they

stalked along in "rank entire," Commodus Cannon leading the van, and

the ladies--enraptured at the appearance of the male part of the

family--bringing up the rear. They were certainly annoyed by the

impertinent observations of the vulgar people, boys and girls, who,

with the usual English bad taste, did not know better,--who would

titter, and exclaim, "I say, there goes the horse-marines!"

"No, no," cried another; "it's the famous Sea Cook and his sons wot

uncovered the Sandwich Islands!"

"I say, commodore, how are they all in the _Fleet_?" roared out a

costermonger.

"Poor old gentleman! his eyebrows are worn out, looking out for squalls

through a _grating_?" said a fourth.

While a boatswain sang out, and whistled in Cannon's ear,

"Yer, yer! man the sides! there's the flying Dutchman coming on board!"

"Sing out for Captain Yokell, cockswain!" bellowed an impertinent

sailor.

Now, strange to say, these observations, which might have offended

some sensitive persons, highly gratified our travellers. They had

already obtained what they so ardently desired--_notoriety_, and had

a chance of seeing their names in _print_; for, even when a man is

abused and ridiculed, if it is in _print_, the sting carries with it

its own antidote. He becomes public property; he is something; "There

goes that confounded ass, Mr. Such-a-one! there goes that rum cove,

Mr. What's-his-name!" Then, if he can but get himself caricatured, he

is a made man. Were it not for the gratification derived from such

publicity, would so many people walk, and talk, and dress, or undress,

in the absurd manner we daily witness in our lounges? A certain lord

was honoured with an hebdomadary flare-up by a certain weekly paper

as regularly as church-bells are rung on the sabbath. It was expected

that his lordship would have purchased the editor's silence,--absurd

expectation! One might as well expect that a jolly prebend would

decline sitting in half-a-dozen stalls at the same time. No, no; the

editor abused on until he was tired of abusing _gratis_; when his

lordship was so much annoyed that he paid to have scurrilous articles

inserted, forwarded by himself.

Two packets were about starting, a French one and an English one.

The Cannons were resolved to punish their ungrateful countrymen,

and embarked under the colours of France. A numerous French family

were repairing on board; and, as the gentlemen wore a red riband in

their button-holes, our party concluded they were noblemen. The two

families were grouped near each other; and the French, with their usual

condescension, honoured the Cannons with their countenance, conversing

as well as persons scarcely acquainted with each other's language can

conveniently converse.

The morning was fine; but lowering clouds and a white sun would have

induced experienced mariners to expect a fresh breeze. With great

volubility of execrations the Gaul got under weigh, and paddled on

slowly, while the English packet shot by like a dart. The French

captain smiled at this swiftness, and, shrugging up his shoulders,

exclaimed,

"_Ces Anglais! ça n'a pas d'expérience!--nous verrons tout à l'heure!_"

he added, rubbing his hands with delight.

The influence of dress is wonderful. A certain costume seems to

impart to the wearer, ideas pertaining to the class of society which

he then personates. A lawyer's wig and gown make a man fancy that he

could plead, and he regrets that he was not brought up to the bar. A

civilian, who attends a fancy ball in a splendid uniform, is inspired

with courageous ideas, which a free potation of _refreshment_ fans

into a martial ardour. Now the Cannons did truly consider themselves

sailors. The young men walked up and down the deck boldly, endeavouring

to show how they could tread a plank or a seam on "sea legs" without

staggering, although there was no more motion than under Kew-bridge;

and then they would cast a knowing eye at the compass as they passed

the binnacle, to ascertain if the helmsman steered judiciously,

although the compass was as little known to them as the Koran. Then

they would suddenly stop, and look at the sky; then suck their fingers,

and hold them up, to _see_ which way the wind blew; and, when their

cigars were out they would whistle or hum "_Rule Britannia!_" or, "_You

gentlemen of England, who live at home at ease_," while they were

lighting other havannahs.

Old Cannon was equally busy; but he was seated amongst the ladies,

_encouraging_ them against sea-sickness, which he said was all

nonsense, and, if they were _very_ sick, recommended them most

particularly to turn their faces to the wind, and to keep their veils

before them not to _see_ the _sea_. Then to the French gentlemen he

endeavoured to describe the battles of the Nile and of Trafalgar;

and the Frenchmen of course concluded from his age, language, and

appearance, that he was at least an admiral.

A "_cat's-paw_," as the sailors call it, had now ruffled the surface

of the water, and the vessel commenced heaving; ere long, most of the

passengers assisted the packet in conjugating the verb "heave;" when,

strange to say, the powers of the pea-jacket and the anchor-buttons

were exhausted, and all the Cannons were drawn out,--a broadside

of unutterable misery. Old Cannon roared out "_he was a-dying_,"

and begged they would send for a doctor; and while he was rolling,

and twisting, and twining upon the deck in agony, the cabin-boy was

cleansing him with a wet swab. As to the Miss Cannons, they were

assisted below,--not by their brothers, who, with dismay in their

countenances, were "_holding on_" at every thing and every one they

could catch, until a sudden regurgitation made them rush in desperation

to the bulwark, with closed eyes and extended arms. Strange to say,

the French gentlemen were not sick! possibly their red riband was more

effectual than blue jackets; but they indulged their mirth at the

expense of old Cannon, exclaiming,

"_Mais, voyez donc, ce pauvre Monsieur de Trafalgar!_"

It now was blowing fresh, and, to add to their misery, the paddles, by

some mismanagement of the engineer, got obstructed, and the vessel was

completely water-logged.

The French passengers got frightened, and began shaking old Cannon,

roaring out,

"_Monsieur de Trafalgar, à la manœuvre! à la manœuvre!_"

"Oh Lord! oh Lord!" exclaimed the old man in a piteous tone, "are we

arrived?"

"_No, sare! we sall all arriver down to de bottom. Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!_"

"_Monsieur de Trafalgar, you do see! vat is de matter!_" exclaimed a

poor Frenchwoman, who had rolled over him.

The captain swore that it all arose from their having an English

steam-engine, which his owner had insisted upon. Fortunately for the

party, there happened to be an English sailor on board, who had all the

while been sleeping on the bows, and who started at the uproar and the

loud curses of the French crew: every one giving an advice which no

one followed and all contradicted. He jumped down below, and in a few

moments all was right again. When he returned upon deck, the captain,

with a smile of importance, observed,

"_I do suppose, sare, dat you have been vere long time in France; dat

is de metod of which we do make use in circonstances similar._"

"_Circumstances similar!_" exclaimed Jack, as he thrust a quid in his

cheek, "then, why the h--didn't you do it yourself, you beggar?" and

off he went to roost, as the Frenchman, pale with rage, muttered a

"_sacré Godam!_"

Soon, however, the harbour of Boulogne was made, and the crowd of its

idle inhabitants were congregated as usual on the pier, to variegate

the sameness of their amusements by the arrival of fresh food for

curiosity and gossip regularly supplied by the packets. Unfortunately

it was low water, and the steamer could not get in; it therefore

became necessary that the passengers should be landed on the backs of

fisherwomen, who are always ready saddled on these occasions for the

carriage of voyagers. Great were the cries and the shrieks of the Miss

Cannons and their mamma when thus mounted; but old Cannon, recovered

from his sickness, seemed quite delighted. He jumped upon the shoulders

of a fat old woman, who staggered under the weight, with a "'_Cré

chien, qu'il est lourd!_" But Mr. Cannon was not satisfied with his

natural weight, and, wishing to show the natives that he could ride

_à l'Anglaise_, he stuck his knees in the sides of his biped steed,

and began rising in his saddle, despite the tottering _Boulonnaire_,

who was roaring out, "'_Cré Dieu, Monsieur l'Anglais! est-ce que vous

étes enragé! Nom d'un Dieu! vous m'ereintes! Ah Jesus, je n'en puis

plus!_" and, suiting the action to the word, down she rolled in the

mud, pitching her rider head over heels, amidst convulsive roars of

international laughter.

This accident did not halt the cavalcade, and Cannon's affectionate

spouse and children endeavoured in vain to rein in their chargers. On

they trotted until they landed them at the pier, leaving Cannon in the

hands of the fisherwoman, who not only insisted upon her fare in the

most vehement language, but on compensation for the damage occasioned

by her fall, which she justly attributed to his bad riding.

The old gentleman, soused to the skin, was most anxious to reach some

hotel where he could put on dry clothes; but he was in France,--and

plans of comfort are not of easy execution in that land of freedom.

He was stopped with his whole generation at the custom-house, where

fresh annoyances awaited them. It had never occurred to him that in

pacific times a passport was required, and he had neglected this

necessary measure. In vain he roared out that his name was Cannon.

"Were you the pope's park of artillery," replied the insolent scrivener

of the police, "you must be _en règle_." While this warm discussion

was going on, Commodus heard loud shrieks in a room into which his

wife and daughters had been politely pushed. He asked for admittance

in vain, bawling out that they were the Miss Cannons. It was indeed

his astonished young ladies, whom a custom-house female official

insisted upon searching. Another more terrific alarm shook his nerves;

a terrible _fracas_ took place at the door, and he thought he heard

the voice of Sam Surly cursing the entire French nation in the most

eloquent Yorkshire dialect. Alas! it was he; but in what a degraded

situation,--what a disgraceful condition for a free-born British

yeoman! and yet we are at peace with the Gaul! Sam was stretched upon

the ground, surrounded by what appeared to Cannon to be soldiers,

with drawn swords, threatening his life, while he was emphatically

denouncing their limbs. But, oh, horror! another soldier was pulling

off his corduroys in presence of the multitude; while another, and

another, and another were drawing out of them about two hundred

yards of bobbinet! This operation over, the _douanier_ proceeded to

draw out a specification, or _procès verbal_, not only regarding the

seizure, but a black eye and a bloody nose that Sam had inflicted on

"_des soldats Français_," for which his life alone could atone; but an

English gentleman standing by, assured Cannon that a napoleon would

manage these _braves_, if they had been half kicked to death. Money

settled the business, and all the party proceeded toward the town,

surrounded by a crowd of curious people in roars of laughter; the male

part of the family were swearing most copiously, the ladies crying most

piteously, and Sam Surly offering to box any one for a pot of porter.

The name of Cannon had passed from mouth to mouth, and had reached

Stubb's corner before the party. This celebrated laboratory of

reputation and crucible of character is simply the front of a

circulating library,--a very emporium of works of fiction. A group of

idlers were, as usual, assembled at this saluting battery, who loaded

so soon as the approach of what a wag called the _battering train_ was

announced.

This spot proved to the Cannon family a second baptismal fount, for,

as they passed by, they all received cognominations according to their

external appearance, which ever after have stuck to them. Commodus

Cannon, a short, plump, dapper man, was called the Mortar; Mrs. Cannon,

also of respectable _embonpoint_, and of a _tournure_ between an apple

dumpling and a raspberry bolster-pudding, was named the Howitzer; Miss

Molly, a tall slight figure, was favoured with the appellation of the

Culverin; Biddy, a squat cherub-looking girl, was basely named the

Pateraro; Lucy, who had rather a cast in each eye, which had induced

the wits of Muckford to christen her Miss Wednesday (as they pretended

that she looked both ways to Sunday,)--Miss Lucy, those pernicious

sponsors called the Swivel; Kitty, a stout, short, beautiful creature,

in whose form graceful undulations made up for length, they nicknamed

the Carronade. The senior of the junior Cannons was a Short Nine;

George, a Four Pounder; Cornelius, a Cohorn; Peter, a Long Six; and

Oliver, a Pétard, the most horrible and degrading patronymic that could

be bestowed upon any poor traveller in France.

At last, after passing under this volley from Fort Stubb, they all

arrived, more dead than alive, at a hotel. Here, to their additional

comfort, they were informed that half of the ladies' things that

had not been made up were seized, or, in other words, made over

to the _douaniers_. Exhausted and despairing, they asked for some

soup, expecting a bowl of mock-turtle or of gravy. A _potage de

vermicelle_ was served up, the sight of which was not very encouraging

for digestive organs just recovering from an inverted peristaltic

motion. Cannon tasted it, and swore it was nothing but "hot water and

worms." Miss Molly told him he ought to be ashamed of himself, before

strangers, not to know wermichelly. Cannon swore lustily that they

might swallow the wormy-jelly themselves, and asked for some other

_potage_. A _soupe maigre_, made of sorrel and chervil, followed.

Cannon had scarcely tasted the sour mixture, when he swore he was

poisoned with oxalic acid, and roared out for a doctor, when he was

informed to his utter dismay that all the doctors in the town had

struck.

Doctors strike!--never heard of such a thing. To be sure, they may

strike a death-blow now and then; but doctors striking was a new sort

of a conspiracy. The French waiters only shrugged up their shoulders

with a "_Que voulez vous, monsieur!_" a most tantalizing reply to a man

who cannot get anything that he wants.

An English resident in the room explained matters. "We have, sir," he

said, "several British practitioners in this place: many of them are

men of considerable merit; but the learned body have just been thrown

into a revolution by a Scotch physician, a Dr. M'Crusoe. The usual fee

here, is a five-franc piece, or four shillings and twopence English; a

sum so very small that many English are ashamed to tender it. M'Crusoe

therefore proposed to his brethren that they should claim a higher

remuneration."

"Jantlemen," he said, "it's dero-gatory tul the deegnety of a

pheeseecian like huz, who hae received a leeberal eeducation, mare

aspeecially mysel', wha grauduated at Mo-dern Authens, tul accep' sic

a pautry fee as four an' tippence. No maun intertains mare contemp'

for siller than aw do; but the varry least we aught tul expec' is ten

fraunks for day veesits, an' eleven fraunks for nighet calls; fare

from the varry heegh price of oil and caundles, at the varry lowest

caulculation, it costs me mare than ten _baubees per noctem_ to keep

my noghcturnal lamp in pro-per trim. An' aw therefore houp in this

deceesion we wull support each eather ho-nestly and leeberally. Aw need

na remind jantlemen of yere erudeetion of the wee bit deformed body

Æsop's fable, o' the bundle o' stucks, or o' the faucees of the Ro-man

leectors, union cone-stitutes straingth. Therefore aw repeat it, aw

trust ye wull enforce this raigulation like men o' indepaindence, an'

conscious of the deegnity o' science."

All the doctors acquiesced in the expediency of his project, and to

that effect signed a resolution, with which M'Crusoe walked off, and

read the document with a loud and audible voice, as sternly as a

magistrate could read the riot act, at Stubb's corner. The indignation

of the community knew no bounds; their wrath foamed and bubbled like

the falls of Niagara; they swore by the heads of Galen and Esculapius

that they would rather die of the pip, expire in all the agonies of

hepatitis, gastritis, enteritis, and all the _itises_ that were ever

known, than give one _centime_ more than five francs; nay, in their

fury, they swore they would throw themselves into the hands of French

doctors, and swallow a gallon of _tisane_ a day for a fifteen-pence

fee; and hundreds of letters were sent off to Scotland for cheap

doctors.

This was what Dr. M'Crusoe wanted: he immediately circulated himself in

every hole and corner to inform the public that,

"In consequence of illeeberality o' ma breethren, under exusting

cercumstaunces, aw feel mysel' called upon by pheelauntropy and

humaunity to tak' whatever ma patients can afford to gie me."

Such was the state of the faculty of Boulogne when Cannon swore he was

poisoned. A French doctor came and ordered him four grains of tartar

emetic in a gallon of hot water; and as French doctors are very kind

and attentive to their patients, acting both as physicians and nurses,

Cannon's attendant had the extreme benevolence to remain with him

until he had not only swallowed, but restored, every _minim_ of this

bounteous potation, which really amounted to the full capacity that

Cannon possessed of containing fluids.

Whether there was anything deleterious or not in the _soupe à

l'oreille_, it is difficult to say; but the ladies were afflicted

all night with what physicians call _tormina_, and _tenesmus_, and

_intus-susceptio_, and _iliac passion_, and _borborygma_ in their

_epigastric_ and their _hypochondriac_ regions; for all and several of

which, the French doctor duly irrigated them with hot water and syrup

of gum, threatening them with a _cuirasse de sangsues_ if they were

not better in the morning, as he said that they all laboured under

an _entero-epiplo-hydromphalo-gastrite_: while poor Cannon, writhing

under the effect of _l'eau émétisée_ was denounced as being threatened

with _entero-epiplomphale_, _entero-merocèle_, _entero-sarcocèle_,

and _entero-ischiocèle_. Sick as they all were, they looked upon the

native practitioner as a very learned man, and gladly gave thirty sous

_a head_ for so much information, when an impudent English quack would

have asked them ten francs for merely telling them that they had what

is vulgarly called the mulligrubs.

After an intolerable night, Morpheus was shedding his poppies over the

exhausted travellers, when they were all roused by the most alarming

cries; and Miss Lucy Cannon and Molly Cannon were dragged out of their

beds by two French gentlemen, who had just jumped out of theirs, and,

clasped in their arms, were forthwith carried out into the court-yard.

THE RELICS OF ST. PIUS.

Saint Pius was a holy man,

And held in detestation

The wicked course that others ran,

So lived upon starvation.

He thought the world so bad a place

That decent folks should fly it;

And, dreaming of a life of grace,

Determin'd straight to try it.

A cavern was his only house,

Of limited expansion,

And not a solitary mouse

Durst venture near his mansion.

He told his beads from morn to night,

Nor gave a thought to dinner;

And, while his faith absorb'd him quite,

He ev'ry day grew thinner.

Vain ev'ry hint by Nature given,

His saintship would not mind her;

At length his soul flew back to heaven,

And left her bones behind her.

Some centuries were gone and past,

And all forgot his story,

Until a sisterhood at last

Reviv'd his fame and glory.

To Rome was sent a handsome fee,

And pious letter fitted,

Requesting that his bones might be

Without delay transmitted.

The holy see with sacred zeal

Their relic hoards turn'd over,

The skeleton, from head to heel,

Of Pius to discover;

And having sought with caution deep,

To pious tears affected,

They recognised the blessed heap

So anxiously expected.

And now the town, that would be made

Illustrious beyond measure,

Was all alive with gay parade

To welcome such a treasure.

The bishop, in his robes of state,

Each monk and priest attending,

Stood rev'rently within the gate

To view the train descending;

The holy train that far had gone

To meet the sacred relic,

And now with joyous hymns came on,

Most like a band angelic.

The nuns the splendid robes prepare,

Each chain, and flower, and feather;

And now they claim the surgeon's care

To join the bones together.

The head, the arms, the trunk, he found,

And placed in due rotation;

But, when the legs he reached, around

He stared in consternation!

In vain he twirl'd them both about,

Took one, and then took t'other,

For one turn'd in, and one turn'd out,

Still following his brother.

Two odd left legs alone he saw,

Two left legs! 'tis amazing!

"Two left legs!" cried the nuns, with awe

And anxious wonder gazing.

The wonder reach'd the listening crowd,

And all the cry repeated;

While some press'd on with laughter loud,

And some in fear retreated.

The bishop scarce a smile repress'd,

The pilgrims stood astounded;

The mob, with many a gibe and jest,

The holy bones surrounded.

The abbess and her vestal train,

The blest Annunciation,

With horror saw the threaten'd stain

On Pius' reputation.

"Cease, cease! ungrateful race!" cried she,

"This tumult and derision,

And know the truth has been to me

Revealed in a vision!

"The saint who now, enthron'd in heav'n,

Bestows on us such glory,

Had _two_ left legs by Nature given,

And, lo! they are before ye!

"Then let us hope he will no more

His blessed prayers deny us,

While we, with zeal elate, adore

The left legs of St. Pius."

C.S.L.

DARBY THE SWIFT;

OR,

THE LONGEST WAY ROUND IS THE SHORTEST WAY HOME.

CHAPTER III.

"Tipsy dance and jollity."--_L'Allegro._

A full hour after Darby's departure I ventured to open the little

dog-eared volume which he had thrown upon my table. The title-page was

a curious specimen of that lingual learning which is so often to be met

with in the remotest districts of Ireland. Gentle reader, a description

of it would only spoil it; I therefore lay it before you as it appeared

to me then, with this slight difference,--that the printer informs me

he has no _letter_ that can adequately express or imitate the rustic

simplicity, the careless elegance both of the character and setting up.

It was as follows:

THE DARBIAD!

A BACCHI-SALTANT EPIC. IN ONE BOOK.

AUCTORE CLAUDICANTE KELLIO.

Containing an Account of a Great Festival given at "The Three

Blacks," by one Mr. Darby Ryan, on the occasion of his coming into

his Fortune, and all the Songs an' Dances as perform'd there in

honor to him.

Dulce est desipere in loco.

Printed by Mary Brady, X^{_her mark_}, at the sign of the Cross

Quills in Monk's Lane, opposit the Friary. Price sixpence; and to

be had of all Flyin' Stationers, and Dancin' Masthers.

I could not but admire the classical taste and ingenuity with which

Mr. Kelly, the author, had Latinized his name. He had read, no doubt,

that Ovid was called Naso from the excessive size of his nose; and,

with a delicacy peculiar to himself, had elegantly concealed the

vulgar cognomen of _Lame_ Kelly,--by which he was known,--in the more

pompous-sounding Roman appellation of _Claudicante_! _Kellio_, too, was

another "_curiosa felicitas_;" for, while it was in perfect accordance

with grammatical accuracy, it sounded like an ingenious anagram of

O'Kelly, an ancient Irish name. But, to the poem itself.

INVOCATION.

INSPIRE me, Phœbus! in the song I sing,

And to my aid the nine twin-sisters bring;

No common deeds I celebrate or praise--

DARBY THE SWIFT is hero of my lays!

AFTER a hurling-match by Darby won,

Although his nose bad suffered in the fun,

He, with his rivals, now no longer foes,

To the Three Blacks in peaceful triumph goes!

_Two blacks_ already had he in the fray,

But whereabouts I won't presume to say:

'T would spoil the beauty of a hero's mien,

Though by the candles' glare they scarce were seen.

Many were met; of sisters, brothers, cousins,

Aunts, uncles, nieces, sweethearts, wives, some dozens.

First, Widow Higgins, with her daughters three,

Bedizen'd out as fine as fine could be,

Came on her low-back'd car, with feather-bed,

And ornamental quilt upon it spread.

She look'd a queen from the luxurious East

Reclining on an ottoman:--the beast

That drew her, chicks and all, drew seventy stone at least!

And he to horse was what to man is monkey,

In epics 't would be _bathos_, or I'd call him donkey.

But (who can read the secret book of Fate?)

Just as the party pass'd the inn-yard gate,

A startled pig--a young and timorous thing

That in a puddle had been weltering--

Woke from some rapturous dream, and in its fright

Rush'd 'tween the nag's forelegs, who, woful sight!

Employ'd his hinder ones so wondrous well,

That Widow Higgins, bed, and daughters, fell

(Alas, my muse!) into the porker's bath!

Oh, day turn'd night! oh, pleasure sour'd to wrath!

But soon they did recover mirth, and jok'd,

For 'twas the feather-bed alone that soak'd

The stagnant pool:--no stain's impurity

Defil'd their rainbow-riband'd dimity,

Save one; and that was on the widow's _crupper_,

Who said, "I wish they'd _scald_ that pig for supper!"

Next came Miss Duff, in a light pea-green plush,

That beautifully show'd her blue-red blush.

Miss Reeves soon follow'd, spite of summer weather,

In pelerine of goose-down, and a feather.

The two Miss Gallaghers, the four Miss Bradys,

With I know not how many other ladies.

Amongst them Nelly Jones, with her first child,

That squeak'd and squall'd; then, cock-a-doodle, smiled.

Reader! I tell this for your private list'ning,

To have the clargy at his feast, a christ'ning

Our Darby thought would be a trick with art in

To _nail_ the presence of big Father Martin,

Who was the _bochel-bhui_ of jolly sinners,

At wakes or christ'nings, weddings, deaths, or dinners!

Suppose Jack Falstaff had ta'en holy orders,

And then I'll say your fancy somewhat borders

Upon the plumpy truth of this round priest,

Who ne'er refus'd his blessing to a feast.

One slender damsel, that seem'd not fifteen,

With younger brother, in the throng was seen;

Shy and confused, as when a violet,

Suddenly snatch'd from its dark-green retreat,

First meets the gaudy glaring of the day,

And seems to close its beauty from the ray

Of unaccustom'd light that rudely prys

Into its gentle, modest, azure eyes.

What led her thither I could never learn.

But, hark! who comes? it is Miss Pebby Byrne,

All spick and span, to grace our hero's feast;--

And last, Miss Reilly, who, tho' last, not least,

Contributes by her dress and portly mien

To swell the splendour of the joyous scene.

Juno herself ne'er walk'd with such an air!

A bright-blue band encircled her red hair,

Clasp'd on her forehead by a neat shoe-buckle!

Her dress was gaudy,--though as coarse as huckle-[24]

Back, or the web call'd linsey-woolsey,--flowing

In graceful negligence; tho' sometimes showing

It had been out for a more sylphid shape,

As sundry pins, o'ertir'd, releas'd the cape!

But now the christ'ning's o'er: of wine and cakes

First Father Martin, then each fair, partakes;

The youths incline to porter and potcheen.

Miss Reilly condescends to be the queen,

Presiding o'er the rites of dear bohea,

Whose incense in one corner you might see

Rising in volumes from four sacred stills,

Which, as Miss Reilly empties, Darby fills

With boiling fluid from a cauldron spoutless,

That had been ages at the Three Blacks, doubtless.

But now the pipes are smoking both and playing:

"Come, boys!" says Father Martin, "no delaying!

Let's have a song. Come, you first, Tommy Byrne,

And then we'll get a stave all round in turn."

Tommy, obedient, put his _dudheen_[25] in

His waistcoat pocket, and thus did begin:--

_Tune_--"Alley Croker."

I.

Your furreners, that come abroad

Into our Irish nation,

Expectin' nothin' else but fraud

And cut-throat dissertation;

What is't they find on landin' first

But hundred _millia-falthas_,

And kindness that we still have nurs'd?

Tho' slav'ry near has spoilth us!

Wirra! wirra! wirrasthrue!

Wouldn't Erin's glory,

With the pen

Of clever men,

Make a weepin' story?

II.

Says one,--"You lazy pisant! why

Parmit that pig so durty

To sleep beside you, when a sty

He'd find more clane and purty?"--

They little know that gratitude

To us was early sint, sir!

And so we think no place too good

For him that pays the rint, sir!

Wirra! wirra! wirrasthrue!

Wouldn't Erin's glory,

With the pen

Of clever men,

Make a dacent story?

Here a loud squeak of grunting praise was heard

From the new pig-house in the stable-yard:

Th' applause awhile the minstrel's music drown'd; }

But soon he did resume, and all around }

Remark'd how much his voice of late improv'd in sound.}

III.

Another says,--"You idle dog,

Why do ye lock your door up,

And every sason quit your bog

To thravel into Europe?"

Sure we would gladly stop at home

The whole year round, and labour,

But for the harvest-pence we roam

To pick up in the neighbour-

Hood of England, wirrasthrue!

Wouldn't Erin's glory,

With the pen

Of clever men,

Make a pleasant story?

[I could not help laying the book down at this passage to reflect

whether the imputation of idleness can be justly thrown upon the Irish.

Men who year after year toil through the perils and privations of a

journey into another land for the sake of a few shillings, can scarcely

be termed lazy; and it is to be regretted that some mode of employment

at home is not devised by those in whose power it is to meliorate and

tranquillise their condition.]

IV.

St. Patrick (many days to him!)

Thought _he_ kilt all the varmin

That through the land did crawl or swim,

But he left their cousins-giarmin!

He never dreamt of two-legg'd snakes,

Or toads that were toad-eathers,

Or those _dartlukers_[26] the law makes

To hunt our fellow-crathurs!

(_Chorus, boys!_)

Wirra! wirra! wirrasthrue!

Isn't Erin's glory,

By sword and pen

Of wicked men,

Made a dismal story?

"Success, avourneen!" cried the jolly friar,

"An' may yir whistle, _'lanna!_ never tire!

Now for a toast, my boys, or sentiment,

An' here is one from me with your consent:

'A saddle prickly as a porcupine,

A pair of breeches like a cobweb fine,

High-trottin' horse, and many a mile to go,

For him that to ould Ireland proves a foe!'"

Miss Biddy Reilly was the siren next

Knock'd down for melody: she seem'd perplext,

And said: "Upon my conscience--ralely--now--

I--Tommy, sing for me--well, anyhow,

I've nothin' new to trate ye with--"

"No matther!"

(From all parts of the room,) "sing _Stoney Batther_!"

With that she hem'd to clear her pipe, and through

Her bright-red curls her radish fingers drew;

Then looking round, and smiling as she look'd,

(While many a heart upon her bait she hook'd,)

Her ditty once, twice, she commenced too high,--

At last she found the key;--then, with a sigh

Long-drawn and deep, her quivering voice she woke,

Which rose and curl'd--ay, gracefully as smoke

Seen at a distance--misty-wreathing--dimly

Issuing from some wood-bound cottage _chimley_.

I.

In Stoney Batther

There liv'd a man,

By trade a hatther,

And a good wan:

The best of baver

He used to buy;

Till a deceiver,

Passing by,

Said,--"For a crown

I'll sell ye this."

"Come in," says he,

"Let's see what 'tis."

II.

"The finest skin, sir,

You ever saw;

Without or in, sir,

There's not a flaw!

No hat or bonnet

You ever made,

With gloss upon it

Of such a shade!"

"Then put it down,"

The hatther cried;

"And here's yir crown,

And thanks beside,"

III.

But, oh! what wondher

When he did find

The wicked plundher

The rogue design'd!

"My cat is missin',"

(Says he,) "black Min,

_They_'ve cut yir wizzin,--

_I_'ve bought yir skin!

Of neighbours' cats,"

Then wild he swore,

"I'll make my hats

For evermore!"

Miss Biddy Reilly ceased her pensive ditty,

And, with a look that made his rivals jealous,

She call'd upon our hero, who, quite witty,

Express'd a hope they would excuse his bellows,

As he had lately caught _cold_ in the water,

'Stead of an _eel_ that he was lookin' a'ter!

A loud horse-laugh first trumpets Darby's praise.

Then thus his low bass voice he high did raise

_Tune_--"Young Charly Reilly."

I.

Beside a mountin,

Where many a fountin,

Beyant all countin',

Ran swift and clear,

A valley flourish'd

That Nature nourish'd,

For she _dhuc-a-dhurrish'd_[27]

Her last drop there!

And said, at partin',

To Father Martin,

"There's more of _art_ in

_Some_ spots of earth;

But, by this whiskey,

That makes me frisky,

In Ballanisky

_Myself_ had birth?"

II.

In this inclosure,

With great composure,

And hedge of osier,

A cabin grew;

And, sweeter in it

Than any linnet

Could sing, or spinnet,

A maiden, too!

Her time went gaily

Both night and daily,

Till Rodhrick Haly

Pierc'd thro' her heart:

Oh! if he'd spoken,

Or giv'n one token,

Sure 'twouldn't have broken

With love's keen dart!

III.

She thought his fancy

Was bent on Nancy

Or Judy Clancy,

Two sisthers fair:

Though in his bosom,

You can't accuse him,

But _she_ did strew some

Love-nettles there!

For all that, never

Could he endeavour

His lip to sever,

And say, "Dear Kate!"

The lad was bashful,

'Caze not being cashful;

But she was rashful,

As I'll relate.

IV.

One Sunday mornin',

All danger scornin',

Without a warnin'

She left her home;

And to a valley

She forth did sally

That lay in Bally-

Hinch-a-dhrome!

A while she wandher'd--

And then she pondher'd--

At last she squandher'd

Her _ra_son quite;

And in a pool there,

Like any fool there,

She soon did cool there

Her burnin' spite!

Our hero ceas'd; and from the multitude }

The suck-tongue sounds of pity that ensued}

Would warm a stoic in his coldest mood: }

Ducks on a pond, when gobblin' up duck-meat,

Ne'er smack'd a music half so sadly sweet!

Miss Biddy Reilly's long-lash'd eyes of jet

Were red (as rivalling her hair) and wet!

Some inward feeling caus'd this outward woe;

But what it was but love for Darby, I don't know!

But now _tay-tay_ and coffee-_tay_ are done,

And of the night begins the r_a_al fun:

The dance is nam'd, and straightway on the floor

Two dozen couple start,--I might say more.

But Darby interposes, and cries, "Stop!

Afore we have a reel let's have a hop:

First--boy an' girl; then girl relieve the girl,

Next boy the boy, till all round have a whirl!

Miss Reilly an' myself will lead the first;--

Come, piper! squeeze yir bags until they burst!

'_Tatther Jack Welsh_,' or '_Smash the Windows_,' play,

'_The wind that shakes the barley_,' '_Flow'rs in May_,'

Or any rantin' roarin' lilt ye know:

What! '_Ligrum Cuss?_' hurroo! then here we go!"

"He spake: and, to confirm his words," they all

Sate down obedient in the festive hall!

None but himself and Biddy upward stood,

All eyes were on them of the multitude!

But how shall I describe the wondrous pair,

_Terpsichore!_ that worshipp'd thee then there?

Such grace, such action, on a malt-house floor,

Was never seen or heard of, e'en, before!

O'Ryan's arms at stiff right angles to

His body were, which to the gazer's view

Betray'd no motion; while his legs below

Seem'd all _St. Vitus'_ nimblest shakes to know!

With knees bent inward, heels turn'd out, and toes

That seem'd contending like two deadly foes

For one small spot of earth, he digg'd the ground,

And sent the mortar pulveriz'd around!

"Look at his feet!" was the admiring cry;

"Hold down the light that we may closely spy:

There's double-shuffle for ye! hoo! success!

He'd dance upon a penny-piece, or less!"

Meanwhile, Miss Reilly, with her hands aside,

A varied change of steps and movements plied;

Now bold advancing in her partner's face,

Now shooting by a side-slip to a place

The farthest on the floor:--at every turn,

As round and graceful as a spinning churn!

But, ah! not long was she the dance's queen;

For young _Kate Duff_, who owed her long a spleen,

Swift as the lightning from a cloud of gloom,

Shot from a dim-lit corner of the room,

And sent the frowning Biddy to her seat,

Who mutter'd something that I can't repeat!

_Long Curly_ next our hero's post relieves,

And _Kitty Duff_ gives place to _Nelly Reeves_:

_Curly_, the piper's son, _Ned Joyce_, supplants;

The blind old father knows his step, and chants

The lilt with double force: _Miss Higgins_ next

Sets down _Miss Reeves_; _Ned Joyce_ retires, half vext,

For _Knock-knee'd Phelim_, who, despite his _pins_,

Applause from all for _heel-and-toeing_ wins!

Thus did they trip it for a goodly hour;

When, oh! what charm there is in music's pow'r!

Old Joyce the piper seizes a short stay

To change his pipes:--and, what's the merry lay

They now lilt up?--'_The Priest in his Boots_,' and lo!

(Whether 'twas all concerted I don't know,)

Fat _Widow Higgins_, 'midst the general shout,

By _Father Martin_ is led waddling out!

Oh! how they tramp'd and stamp'd, and flounc'd and bounc'd!

A mercy 'twas they trod on the ground-floor,

For through a loft they surely would have pounc'd--

As 'twas, the earth was trembling to its core:

Sure such _flochoolah_ dancers ne'er were seen before!

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 24: The usual spelling of this word is "huckaback;" but I

suppose Mr. Kelly's excuse would be "_licet facere verba_."]

[Footnote 25: _Dudheen_, short pipe.]

[Footnote 26: _Dartluker_, the Irish name for a peculiar kind of leech

that preys upon a small fish called _pinkeen_.]

[Footnote 27: _Dhuc-a-Dhurrish_, the drink at the door.]

A FEW ENQUIRIES.

Mortal, in thy brief career,

Ranger of this nether sphere,

Tell me truly, have thine eyes

View'd earth's hidden mysteries?

Hast thou seen the dark blue sea,

Its bosom heaving tranquilly

To the wooing breath of night?

Hast thou watch'd the quiv'ring light,

Where the silver moonbeams dance,

Scattered o'er its broad expanse?

Likening the giant deep

To a sobbing child asleep,

O'er whose cheeks and visage fair

Smiles that wait on infant care

Chase the tear-drops trickling there?

Hast thou ever watch'd that sea

Rising in its majesty,

When its mighty depths are rent

By the rushing element,

And its waves exultingly

Revel in their liberty?

Hast thou ever, pale with doubt,

View'd the fatal waterspout,

Or the whirlpool's treach'rous wave

Luring seamen to their grave?

Hast thou climb'd o'er Alpine snows,

When the day is at its close,

When the storm its fury spends,

And the avalanche descends,

Hurling a terrific death

On the mountaineer beneath?

Hast thou on Arabia's soil,

Faint with heat, and worn with toil,

Bow'd beneath the simoom's blast,

Till its deadly breath was past?

Hast thou e'er pursued thy way

'Neath the red sun's burning ray?

And, when hope was almost gone,

Has the mirage lured thee on

With its waves that ever flee,

And but mock thy misery?

Hast thou watch'd the torrent's force

Dashing onward in its course,

Till, in one tremendous leap,

Its waters sink into the deep?

Hast thou seen the lava glide

Down the steep volcano's side?

Hast thou seen the misty light

Of the comet's erring flight?

Or the rainbow's azure span,

Or the huge leviathan,

Or the meteor in the air,

Or the lion in his lair,

Or the thousand things that be

In the blue depths of the sea?

Mortal, in thy brief career,

Ranger of this nether sphere,

Thou that hast a wand'rer been,

Tell me truly, hast thou seen

Of fire, ocean, earth, and air,

Such things--beautiful and rare?

If't has been thine to behold

Nature's hidden charms unroll'd,

All her features to peruse

Deck'd in all their varied hues;

If so blest thy lot has been,--

Why, what a deal you must have seen!

NIGHTS AT SEA;

_Or, Sketches of Naval Life during the War._

BY THE OLD SAILOR.

No. V.

THE FRENCH CAPTAIN'S STORY.

"But, in these cases,

We shall have judgment here; that we but teach

Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return

To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice

Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice

To our own lips."

_Macbeth._

We left Lord Eustace Dash in his gallant frigate, with the prize in

company, running down into the gulf of Genoa, and a strange sail in

sight. His lordship swept the horizon with his glass till his keen eye

caught the desired object in the field, and in an instant he was as

fixed and stationary as a statue. The moon was rising, and her glorious

light shone upon the distant sails, which looked like a silver speck

on the dark zone of the horizon. Intense and eager was the gaze of the

noble captain, and breathless attention pervaded every individual on

the forecastle; even old Savage, the boatswain, suffered his rattan to

be motionless, and the tongue of Jack Sheavehole was still. At length

Lord Eustace raised himself from his recumbent position; every ear was

awaiting the announcement of the stranger's character; the boatswain

approached his commander rather nearer than etiquette allowed, so eager

was he to obtain the information. "Mr. Sinnitt!" said his lordship, and

old Savage opened his mouth as well as his ears to catch all that would

be uttered. "Mr. Sinnitt!" repeated his lordship; and, that officer's

response being heard, the important communication would next be made.

"Mr. Sinnitt, trim sails in chase," said the captain, and walked aft to

resume his station near the taffrail.

"Now that's what I calls onprincipled," uttered the boatswain, in a low

tone, to his mate: "here we are, rambadgering right down somewhere away

to the back of November, in chase of the Flying Dutchman, I supposes:

but whether yon's she or not may I be bamfoozled into a kettle-drummer

if I know, and the skipper arn't never got the politeness to inform us.

Well, the sarvice is going to----"

"Trim sails!" shouted Mr. Sinnitt, from the quarter-deck; and then

was heard the twittering of Jack Sheavehole's pipe, and a rattling of

ropes as the braces were hauled in, the tacks and sheets arranged, till

every square inch of canvass performed its own especial and proper

duty. Lord Eustace hailed the Hippolito to continue her course, though

the Spankaway should do otherwise; and then rejoined Citizen Captain

Begaud, who still retained his position, apparently abstracted from all

that was passing around him.

"I have another hour to spare, Monsieur," said his lordship; "your

star, as you call it, is certainly none of the brightest to-night, and

I own I am desirous of hearing the finish of your narrative. Will you

favour me by proceeding?"

"I will, my lord," returned the Frenchman; "and I am the more inclined

to do so, from a presentiment that hangs over me that my days--ay,

even my hours--are numbered. How, when, or where the fatal blow may be

given, or whether by friend or foe, I cannot even conjecture; but still

I am convinced of the fact, and wish to disburthen my mind before my

departure."

"Such presentiments are unworthy a brave man," said Lord Eustace. "You

shall dine with me in Plymouth, Captain Begaud. I fancy you take the

loss of your frigate too much to heart, though you may be well excused

doing so. You fought her nobly, and that rascally first-lieutenant of

yours, merits a hangman's noose, though I have cause to thank him; but,

there, d--it! a coward is my utter abhorrence. Come, come, Monsieur!

your nation is not proverbial for despondency. You will marry the

countess yet,--that is, if she be not already your wife."

A thrilling shudder passed over the Frenchman's frame. "Never, never!"

exclaimed he, with startling vehemence, as he covered his eyes with

his hands, as if to shut out some terrific vision. "No, no, my

lord!--no,--it is past,--it is gone! Ha! ha! ha!--hell itself lends me

its laugh whenever I think of it!"

There was something so demoniac and unearthly in the agonised chuckle

of the Frenchman, that Lord Eustace turned a penetrating look upon him,

as if he actually expected to see the Prince of Evil by his side.

"I had no intention of wounding your feelings, Monsieur, and regret

that I have done so," said the generous Englishman.

"I know it; I am well aware of it," responded Begaud. "You will

presently judge for yourself. But, to proceed. After my audience

with Louis the Sixteenth, the grandson of that wretch whose misdeeds

laid the foundation of the revolution; who, if he did not sanction,

at least did nothing to prevent the murder of his own son, together

with his princess; who broke the heart of his queen, and revelled in

abomination----What was the Parc aux Cerfs?--I have seen it, Monsieur;

I know it all!--the receptacle for his victims,--mere children, whom

he taught to read, and write, and pray;--yet, horrible depravity!

he made them the companions of his disgusting orgies! Yes; he would

nightly kneel with them, and afterwards carry round the crucifix that

they might kiss it; and then selecting----Bah! my soul sickens at

the thought of such a monster! my heart swells almost to bursting!

The daughter of Madame T---- had been there! but I have had my full

revenge! Revenge! revenge on whom? Ay, that's the question; it is a

hidden mystery! the understanding cannot solve it! the innocent suffer

for the guilty!

"After leaving the royal presence, fresh apparel was furnished to me,

a chamber and ante-room were set apart for my use, and, on the morrow,

I--the sworn enemy to the Bourbons! the outcast, whose parents perished

in the fête of 1770! the adorer of the young Countess de M----, who but

a few hours before cherished his affection in despair!--I became an

_attaché_ to the household of the queen,--though in reality engaged in

the confidential service of Monsieur Calonne. Thus both were exposed to

my secret scrutiny; my star was in the ascendant! I felt the importance

of the part I was called upon to enact; and Fate seemed to be weaving

for me a web to catch the royal victims in its trammels!" He drew a

convulsive respiration. "I little thought then, that my own soul would

be meshed in the snares which were laid for others!

"There was something strange in the unusual reliance which M. Calonne

placed upon my fidelity. I was to watch the court party, who flattered

whilst they hated the queen; I was especially instructed to notice

those who had audience of the king: in fact, I engaged to watch over

the interests of my employer by every possible means, fully convinced

that by so doing I should be the better able to promote my own. You

will say this was a dishonourable occupation, my lord. I grant it; but

then, you must remember the bias of my mind,--my oath to Madame T----,

(which I considered religiously binding upon my conscience, though she

was in all probability numbered with the dead,)--and there was, also,

the bewitching felicity of being near to the young countess, whom my

very soul ardently adored.

"The courtiers had raised Calonne from comparative obscurity to the

high and important office which he held; but this they did to suit

their own purposes, not to forward his. But the wily minister soon

ascertained that his position would be scarcely tenable, unless by

some bold stroke the chances should turn in his favour; or else,

by rendering the profligacy of the aristocracy so odious to the

people,--especially the middle classes,--that he might fall back upon

the latter, and become their leader. Economy had been the object

of his predecessors, Neckar and Turgot; but Calonne started a new

theory, which he followed up with avidity,--namely, that profusion

best contributed to, and formed, the wealth of a state. Paradoxical

as this most certainly was, the courtiers could not, or would not,

see through it. They hailed the absurdity with the utmost applause,

and henceforth extravagant profusion became the order of the day, and

soon degenerated into the very extremes of profligacy. The aristocracy

delighted in this, for they bore none of the burthens; and history will

perhaps record that Calonne acted with self-conceit and ignorance.

He did no such thing, my lord; he saw that Neckar, by creating

provincial assemblies, had laid the first stone of a republican form

of government; that the middle classes, though by far the least in

numerical strength, had thereby acquired an influence it was impossible

to control; and therefore, as I said before, he endeavoured to take

advantage of events as they stood, so as to cajole one party whilst he

negociated with the other. Loans were raised to meet the expenditure,

and thus the burthens of the people were increased, the revenue of

four hundred millions of francs was exceeded by at least one hundred

and fifty millions. Complaints, though not loud, were deep. La Fayette

was the leader of the popular cause. He advocated the rights of human

nature, and he was looked up to, with reverence and esteem. He demanded

the convocation of a representative assembly, and M. Calonne secretly

encouraged this demand, that he might be the better enabled to enforce

his schemes upon the nobility for the payment of the deficit.

"In this emergency, and the more securely to carry out his plans, the

minister proposed to assemble the chiefs of the privileged orders,--the

Notables: they met at Versailles; Calonne explained the financial state

of the nation, declared the amount of his deficit, and suggested

the necessity of equalising the taxes, and levying them alike on the

_noblesse_ and the clergy, as well as on the commonalty. Need I say how

distasteful this was to the individuals he addressed? Need I describe

their violent opposition to the proposal, and their determination

to crush the man who had the hardihood to bring it before them? His

enemies were numerous. The pretended friends, who had elevated him to

power to suit their own nefarious arrangements, now united with his

avowed foes; whilst the defalcation brought him into disrepute with

the middle classes, and every engine was set at work to effect his

overthrow. The press, the clergy, and the _noblesse_ took the lead; and

the fate of Calonne seemed to be fully decided upon. But, under a show

of ostentatious vanity and inflated ambition, the minister concealed

consummate penetration and skilful tactics. If the Notables had acceded

to his wishes, his end would be answered, and himself continued in

power; if they refused, they involved themselves in an odium which

would have due weight with the adherents of La Fayette, and to them he

hoped to be enabled to look for support when the court should fail him.

"I have been minute, my lord, in these particulars, that you may the

better understand what has yet to come, for it was about this time

that I made my engagement to serve Calonne; and I was not long in

ascertaining that, though apparently the superficial prodigal, and

the frivolous man of fashion, there was yet an energetic boldness

about him that would, if thwarted in his views, urge him to some deed

of desperation. In most instances he behaved to me with the utmost

familiarity; but I strongly suspected that, through some secret agency

of which I was held in ignorance, he kept up a communication with the

disaffected amongst the middle orders; nor was it long before the

fact was fully revealed to me, for the individual who had been the

accustomed means of correspondence was seized with sudden illness, and

negociations were for a time suspended. It was an anxious and trying

period for the minister; he stood upon a pinnacle from which a powerful

party were concentrating all their force to hurl him, whilst the

illness of the agent had separated him from those who, proud in their

republicanism, would not of themselves seek him, and yet it was from

them alone that he now anticipated succour.

"In his extremity Calonne fixed his attention upon me, and openly

and frankly did he communicate his wishes: his pleasing address and

fascinating manners were at first, however, vainly brought into play;

I suffered them to make but little impression on my mind. To quit the

court,--where I was in great favour with her majesty,--and to leave

the presence of her whom my soul so ardently worshipped, seemed to be

a sacrifice of such magnitude, that I felt I had not the resolution

to make it, and therefore I respectfully declined. 'Such, then, is

your resolve?' said the minister. I bowed acquiescence. 'I shall not

ask your reasons,' continued he, with a smile of mingling scorn and

pride, 'they are well known to me; but it is right that you should

correctly know the situation in which you are placed. Who has been

the architect of your present prosperity? Mark, young man! the hand

that raised the structure can also prostrate it to the dust. I have

entrusted too much to your keeping, not to make the depository safe. It

is true, I have found you faithful; but, if it had been otherwise----'

He paused for a moment, and then rapidly added, 'Young man, there is

such a place as the Bastille! there is such an instrument of execution

as the guillotine!' I smiled in defiance, for threats never produced

any other feeling in me. He observed it, and added, 'It is well your

personal courage prompts you to surmount all apprehensions of either,

and induces you to brave the worst; but reflect!' and his keen eye

was fixed upon me: 'the former would prove a delightful bower for a

love-sick youth; there you may in heavy fetters deplore the harshness

of fortune, and curse the hour that saw you recklessly rend asunder

the rosy bonds of Cupid for the iron safeguards of a stern gailor.'

He saw he had touched me, though I strove to conceal all emotion;

and he went on. 'But what will become of the lovely being whom you

worship? Amidst the gaiety and licentiousness of a court she will soon

forget the child of fortune--Jacques Begaud! and, though I believe

she is not altogether insensible to your merits, yet the memory of

ladies is as evanescent as a flower, it soon fades away; and other

arms will enfold that loveliness in their embrace! some other head

will be pillowed on that fair bosom! another----' 'Hold!' exclaimed

I, affecting an indifference, from a hope that the secret of my

affection was still secure within my own keeping; 'hold, Monsieur!

you are coming to conclusions before you are aware that you have the

slightest ground for them. I am yet free from----' 'It is now my turn

to cry 'hold!'' said he, interrupting me, and that, too, in a voice

and manner that betokened his full sense of the advantage he had

obtained; 'do you imagine, Jacques, that one so well versed in the

workings of human nature as myself can be easily deceived? Your love

for the young Countess de M----! Ay, that flush of the cheek becomes

you! I have seen it before, young man! Those flashing eyes are traitors

to your confidence! they revealed it to me from the first moment of

your entering the royal closet! Your wandering in the forest,--the

eagerness with which you complied with my request to attend me to the

château,--the delight you manifested when first within the walls of

the palace,--all these I knew must have some actuating motive; nor

was I long in discovering it. Subsequent occurrences have confirmed

my penetration, and----' 'You have not been over-generously employed,

Monsieur,' said I, somewhat humbled.--'Young man,' 'returned he, 'bear

witness by your own feelings that self-interest is the governing

principle of our actions. Circumstanced as I was, I deemed it necessary

to ensure your services through a more powerful sentiment than mere

gratitude to Monsieur Calonne, and the sequel shows that I am right.

I might command,' continued he proudly, 'and fear no denial; but I

solicit,' he added mildly, and with a smile; 'will you refuse me,

Jacques?'--'You do me too much honour, Monsieur,' responded I, fully

aware that further subterfuge would be useless; 'I own I love the

countess.'--'And what hope have you of making her your own, Jacques

Begaud?' inquired he eagerly, but in a tone of mournful commiseration.

'What hope can you have? Etiquette imposes an impassable barrier

between you; what, then, can break it down?' He paused, and a vague

sense of his meaning crossed my mind. 'What,' continued he,--'what

I ask you is to annihilate all obstacles, and unite two hearts that

fervently affect each other?' I remained silent. 'To show that I trust

you, Jacques, I will answer my own question. Popular feeling,--the

popular voice,--La Fayette,--and the representative assembly,--liberty

and equality! do you understand me now?'--'I do,' returned I; and,

oh! how often have those very words 'liberty and equality' rung in

my ears since then! they seemed a prophetic intimation of events

that afterwards occurred. I own that I was not really inimical to

his proposal, for my pledge to my injured relative, and my inherent

detestation of monarchy, still retained a powerful influence over my

mind; but I wished, by withholding my acquiescence for a time, to

enhance the value of compliance. How hazardous it is for inexperience

to endeavour to cope with long-practised subtlety! Monsieur Calonne had

read my inmost heart, whilst I foolishly imagined it was a sealed book!

he played a skilful game, and at length, without quitting the court,

(which soon returned to Versailles,) I became the creature of his will.

"My first attempt at negotiation was to be at the residence of a

celebrated fortune-teller at Paris,--one who would have been crushed

by the persecution of the clergy, many of her predictions had been

so singularly fulfilled that both the ecclesiastical and the civil

power were afraid to meddle with her; superstitious awe held them in

abeyance, and she triumphed in despite of both. My embassy was to

deliver a packet into her hands, and to receive a secret communication

in reply. I readily found the dwelling, for my directions were too

clear to be mistaken: it was enclosed within a capacious court-yard,

the walls of which were old, and in some parts dilapidated, but,

nevertheless, there was a frowning strength about them that typified

a stern resistance. The house itself was of ancient structure,

with small narrow windows, which seemed more like loop-holes to a

fortification than apertures to admit light and air, but they were

very numerous; and the exterior masonry had been cut away at an angle

of full fifty degrees on each side, so as to command a tolerably

wide range over every part of the court-yard, except that which lay

immediately beneath. There was not, altogether, an appearance of actual

poverty in the exterior; but it rather resembled the habitation of an

ancient family in decay, proud of splendour, yet without the means of

adequately sustaining it. An aged porter admitted me on my giving a

required signal; but, though his years appeared to be many, there was a

piercing keenness in his eyes, at variance with the silvery whiteness

of his hair. His scrutiny was peculiarly searching, though scarcely

more than momentary; and, having satisfied himself, he preceded me

through a long narrow passage, and then up a flight of stairs, to an

apartment rather meanly furnished, where he demanded my business. I

requested an interview with _la sorcière_, as it was only with herself

I could communicate. He hesitated; but at length left me for about a

quarter of an hour, and at his return bade me follow him. I obeyed; and

we passed through several rooms, of no great pretensions as it regarded

furniture,--there was, however, sufficient in each for use, and every

one seemed adapted to receive different inmates.

"At length we reached the end of a long gallery, and stopped in a small

closet-like place, but well filled with light, and containing numerous

emblems of the divining art of the being who ruled as mistress of the

whole. There were globes of considerable magnitude, diagrams of the

heavenly bodies, curious geometrical figures, two enormous skulls on

pedestals, a human skeleton in a glass-case, stuffed snakes, mirrors

that unnaturally enlarged the human features,--in short, the place

was literally crowded with strange things to attract, or rather to

distract, the attention. Here we lingered a few minutes, and then a

small door was thrown open, into an extremely dark passage hung with

black cloth, and lighted only by a diminutive lamp, that scarcely sent

its feeble rays from one extremity to the other; the sombre appearance

was well calculated to strike terror, and bewilder the weak minds

that traversed its gloom. 'Pass on,' said my conductor; 'open the

farther door! I quit you here.' I obeyed without hesitation, though

I must own that, when I heard the portal close heavily behind me,

and the key harshly grating in the lock, a sickening sensation crept

over my spirit, and I was almost fainting with the closeness of the

place. I pushed on with what haste I could, and, throwing open the

door at the extremity, burst at once from darkness and gloom into a

scene of resplendent brightness that dazzled the eyes; and, before

I could recover my senses, I felt myself enclosed in the arms of

some one who, by her dress, I concluded was the sibyl herself. Such

a greeting appalled me, from its being so totally unexpected; but a

well-remembered voice soon dispelled alarm. I was in the embrace of my

venerable relative,--she who had influenced every action of my early

life;--it was Madame T----!

"Need I tell you that I was at once thrown into the very centre of

the vortex of sedition? That this powerful woman, who had gained

an ascendency that was as extensive as it was astonishing, quickly

introduced me to the disaffected of the times, whom she actually ruled

with a despotism they could not counteract? Need I tell you that

my position at court, and the confidential favour of Calonne, were

immediately turned to her advantage, so as to render her more absolute?

She had unbounded wealth at her command, supplied from the treasury

of the Duke d'Orleans; for, whilst she held council with La Fayette,

Mirabeau, and others, the representatives of the middle classes,--who,

in humbling the _noblesse_, had no idea of abolishing monarchy,--she

also secretly encouraged the leaders of the mob, several of whom were

sheltered in her house. I will not, however, weary you with details of

politics; suffice it to say that Calonne was thrown down by those who

had elevated him, whilst I retained my station about the royal person,

was gradually raised to honour and trust, and became the companion,

the favoured lover of the young countess. But the utmost caution was

requisite: in public a restrained distance was preserved, for the

purpose of concealment; in the hours of stolen privacy our very souls

were firmly knit together.

"Oh! my lord, it is not possible to tell the commotions which

constantly agitated my mind. I saw the relative whom I had revered

from infancy almost, incessantly engaged in overturning the throne,

and annihilating royalty. She held an unaccountable control over my

actions, and urged me on in the same career with herself; whilst the

innocence of the queen, and my affection for the countess, stirred up

the better feelings of my nature, and prompted me to fly from Paris.

But the noble young lady's attachment to her royal mistress prevailed

over every other sentiment, and she would not leave the queen. Day by

day the crisis gradually approached. I ventured to reason with Madame

T----, and was silenced by reproach; had she used threats we might have

been saved. From thenceforth I was narrowly watched; my position with

the countess became known; and the sibyl of Paris, to my surprise,

rather encouraged than opposed it,--nay, she bade me look forward,

as Calonne had done, to popular supremacy as most conducive to the

happiness I sought.

"The king, weak and fickle, one moment yielding, and the next annulling

his consent, destitute of bold and energetic persons to guide or

to defend him, and practised on by treacherous counsellors, became

little more than a cipher in authority, though a rallying-point for

conspiracy. Monsieur, the revolution had commenced! It called into

action, men of ardent passions and extensive talent. The court, the

Count d'Artois, the Polignacs, could not cope with them. Liberality

gained the ascendency. The _noblesse_ and the clergy, after making

a show of resistance to popular demands, hurled themselves into the

revolutionary torrent, and were swept away. My detestation of monarchy

had been to my heart like the life-streams that supplied the channels

of existence; yet, when I saw the fated king in his retirement, amidst

his family, with his children on his knees, and the beautiful white

arms of the queen around his neck, compunctious visitings would swell

my breast; for I knew the national assembly which had been convened

was to be the destruction of Louis, and I, on whom benefits had been

showered, was sworn an accessory to his downfall!"

"Really, Citizen Captain," said his lordship, rather warmly, "you

worked the devil's traverse with a vengeance! Upon my word, you have

been a--ha, hem!--excuse my English blood. There's something yet to

come; pray proceed. One may gather a useful lesson even from--I beg

pardon--proceed."

"An impulse I cannot counteract impels me to continue," returned Begaud

proudly, "or, otherwise, my tongue should be silent. If you are an

unwilling listener, my lord, have the politeness to say so; all that I

desire is a hearer, not a judge."

"True, true!" responded Lord Eustace. "I have to apologise for my

warmth. Believe me I am all attention."

"Step by step," continued the French captain, "the revolution

proceeded. The chambers became united,--not for the purpose of

resisting popular demands, but that by their embrace they might hug

each other, to the death of both. The royal sitting took place; the

assembly insisted on concessions, well knowing that the sceptre was

passing away from the royal grasp; and Louis menaced in return,

being, however, wholly destitute of influence or power to carry his

menaces into operation;--he was the braggart of the morning, the

shrinking imbecile of sun-set. It was shortly after this that the

Count d'Artois undertook to stop the revolutionary torrent. He might

as well have attempted to control the lightning's forked flash, or

tried to have silenced the rolling of the thunder. Arms were seized;

bloodshed followed. The Bastille--ha! ha!--the Bastille came down!

the populace triumphed! the physical strength of the lower orders had

developed itself as superior to every other appliance, and threatened

to overwhelm the middle classes, who had stirred up the ponderous and

mighty engine to perpetrate devastation. The joy of Madame T---- became

unbounded; but her schemes had not yet arrived at the full maturity she

wished. Her idol, La Fayette, it is true, was rising to the zenith;

but she deceived even him. The Duke d'Orleans was her prompter; his

gold was scattered by her amongst the mob with a profuse hand; and

neither Bailly, (who had been created mayor of Paris,) La Fayette,

nor the leaders of true liberty, were aware of the extent to which

corruption was carried to further revolutionary designs, and bribe the

mob to renewed sedition.

"Constant in my attendance upon the royal family, I was also assiduous

in my attention to the young countess. Monsieur, if ever hearts

truly loved, those hearts were ours! Yet, apart from each other, how

different were our actions! Hers was all-confiding, fond attachment and

devotion; whilst, at the same time, she persisted in following and in

sharing the fortunes of her royal mistress. I almost idolized Amelie,

and would cheerfully have sacrificed my life to have preserved hers;

but I still retained my deadly hatred to monarchy, and had registered

an oath to work its overthrow. Oh, Monsieur! had Louis been born in a

private station, his amiability would have gained him the love, the

estimation of all; but he was a king, and it was against the crown the

battery was levelled. Had the _noblesse_, had the clergy acquiesced

in the reasonable plans at first proposed, and then stood firm by the

throne, the middle classes must have partially yielded; but they first

abandoned their own position, and then deserted their monarch.

"Mirabeau arose: La Fayette began to doubt his powers to allay the

revolutionary phrensy; he wished to preserve the monarchical form of

government, and opposed the insurrectionary movements with an armed

force; but Mirabeau died, and, according to his own prediction, the

faction soon tore the last shreds of monarchy asunder. The king

attempted to escape; I aided that attempt, Monsieur; and glad should

I have been, had the royal family attained a place of safety! But the

scheme was frustrated, and frustrated by whom? by Madame T----, whose

intelligence, independent of myself, had placed the fugitives within

the power of the Orleanists. Amelie, at the earnest request of the

queen, remained behind, so that the numbers might not attract notice;

but she was at the earliest opportunity to follow Marie Antoinette.

That opportunity never offered itself. The royal family were brought

back to Paris. Petion and Robespierre clamoured for a republic. In

vain Bailly and La Fayette dyed the Champ de Mars with the blood

of democrats. The new legislative assembly mocked and insulted the

monarch. They began their sitting in puerility; they terminated their

decrees in blood!

"The Tuileries was soon afterwards invaded by the mob, and Louis's

head assumed the symbol of revolution; the crown was already crushed,

the red cap had taken its position even upon the monarch's brow;

royalty was no more, and my heart exulted in its annihilation. Still I

pitied the fate of the Bourbons. The people feared them; there seemed

something in the very name of king which stirred up feelings no earthly

power could subdue. The secrecy I had observed with Madame T----

relative to the flight of the royal family had exposed me to suspicion,

and my condemnation would have been sealed but for the timely rescue

of my aged relative, who saved me from assassination; but I no longer

held influence with either party. I exhorted the countess to fly with

me; but the noble and heroic woman remained firm to her duty, and I

determined rather to perish with her than leave her to the remorseless

cruelty of the rabble.

"The northern armies were rapidly marching to the frontiers unresisted.

The prisons of Paris were crowded with royalists, and such as were

suspected of favouring their views; and, as circumstances had excited a

strong feeling against me, I was at length consigned to the Abbaye; but

an emissary of Madame T---- assured me that it was more for security

than punishment. Horrible were the spectacles that daily succeeded

each other. The stones of the court-yard of the Abbaye reddened with

the blood of victims till the day of immolation crowned the demons

of revolution with a wreath that hell itself might envy. I had been

called before Maillard, and questioned; my replies appeared to be

satisfactory; I was commanded to act as secretary to this wholesale

murderer. A table was placed in the court-yard, at which Maillard

took his seat, with a knife yet reeking with blood before him. On

either side were arranged about a dozen of the lowest order of _sans

culottes_, to form the mockery of a tribunal, whilst near the entrance

stood a ruthless band of sanguinary assassins armed with knives and

mallets. The portal was thrown open, a carriage drove in, and from

it alighted an ecclesiastic, his robes torn and soiled, his face the

semblance of despair, his step, as he descended, feeble,--for he was

aged and weak. His feet touched the ground, Maillard raised his bloody

token, a blow from a mallet felled him to the earth, the wretches

closed upon their victim, and beat and wounded him till his last

convulsive shudder proclaimed that life was extinct! Another presented

himself; but he was young and active, and he sprang at once into the

midst of the assassins, and stood proudly erect. For the moment the

hired tools of vengeance were appalled; but again the knife was raised,

and rage returned with redoubled energy for having suffered a recoil!

Another and another succeeded as the carriages drove in. Age and

infirmity had their brief career shortened! Youth and strength were cut

off in their prime! The sacred character of priest was no protection;

and, Monsieur, I registered the names of twenty-three ecclesiastics

whose mangled bodies were piled against the wall. There was yet

another; but he was saved almost by miracle, and his preservation is

yet to me unaccountable.

"I will not go over the events of that day. Every being within the

prison was massacred except the women, and one or two who were saved by

their intercession. Goblets of blood--the blood of aristocrats--were

handed to daughters and wives, as the test of safety to a parent or

a husband; and the disgusting draughts were swallowed with a horrid

eagerness lest it should be supposed they shrunk from the task.

Monsieur, my very soul sickened. I had hated monarchy; but I had never

contemplated the possibility of such enormities as I was then compelled

to witness. The infuriated beasts of the wildest forest could not be

compared to these hyenas in human form; for, whereas instinct would

lead the first to rend their prey for food without the ingenuity of

torture, the latter called in the aid of human invention to prolong the

sufferings of their victims, for the purpose of glutting their worst

and most baneful passions.

"I was released, and sought the residence of Madame T----; but I found

that even her protection would not avail me. The torrent had reached

even to her, and she feared being carried away by its eddies. There

was but one alternative,--a commission in the army of the North. This

was accepted; but, previous to my departure, (though only a few hours

were allowed,) I endeavoured to obtain intelligence of Amelie. She was

in the Temple with her fated mistress, and I was hurried off to join

the Duke de Chartres[28] on the frontiers. La Fayette was induced to

give himself up to the enemy, who erected the finger of menace before

they had power to execute. A manifesto was published, summoning the

Parisians to return to their allegiance, and, in case of refusal,

threatening to deliver them up to military execution. Bah! Monsieur,

it was gasconade! and by whom was this precious document drawn up? By

the very man who had first set the revolutionary machine in motion, and

who now imagined that the Parisians, having plucked forth the sword

and thrown away the scabbard, were to be terrified by mere threats;

it was my old master, Monsieur Calonne. This act of his, brought the

unfortunate Louis more hurriedly to the scaffold.

"I was present under Dumouriez at Valmy, where the allies, as if

panic-stricken, showed the futility of their threats, for we were

victorious. Conquest succeeded to conquest. The battle of Jemmapes

was fought, and Belgium became ours. It was whilst prosecuting a

hazardous march that intelligence reached me that Louis was no more.

Madame T----'s revenge was satiated; but she herself perished near

the guillotine, an awful instance of fearful retribution. She had

hurried in disguise to the place of slaughter, and obtained a near

approach to the fatal instrument. Her joy at seeing the axe fall was

unbounded; she shrieked with delight, and, being recognised, was raised

upon the shoulders of the women, and in the madness of the moment was

worshipped with enthusiastic fervour: they bore her along through

the swelling crowds, and, amidst their awe and homage, she cried for

fresh victims,--'The queen! the queen!' Her shout was reiterated by

the mob, in whom the sight of royal blood had quickened the tiger-like

ferocity of their sanguinary thirst for gore; and they were hurrying

towards the prison of the bereaved wife and wretched mother, when a

_garde du corps_, in female attire, fought his way to the head of the

procession. He, too, had witnessed the murder of his royal master; and,

terror for his own fate inspiring him with a desire to fall at once,

he formed the determination to have a companion in his exit. He stood

before the shouting mob, who were compelling every one to do obeisance

to their idol; he stooped down, as if in obedience to their mandate;

but, making a sudden spring, like the panther from his lair, or the

snake from his coil, he gripped the sibyl by the throat, dragged her to

the earth, and stabbed her to the heart! 'Twas the work of an instant;

the sound of her voice had scarcely died away in the distance as she

stirred up the vindictiveness of the populace, when she lay extended

on the frost-bound ground a lifeless corpse. The _garde du corps_

was instantly seized, and in a short time his dissevered limbs were

scattered through the Place Louis Quinze. Thus terminated the life of

Madame T----, and the queen was spared a little longer.

"Anxious for the security of Amelie, I requested leave of absence, but

it was refused me,--'my services were required with the army.' Again,

and again, at intervals, I renewed my application, with no better

success; till, goaded by agony, I threw up my commission, and returned

to Paris, where I found Robespierre the leader of the day. The queen

had shared the fate of her royal consort, and the countess was under

condemnation in a dungeon of the Conciergerie. Maddened and desperate,

I sought out Danton, and endeavoured to enlist him on my side for

the preservation of her I loved; but he had argued himself into

cold-blooded policy, and recommended my abandoning Amelie to her fate.

With difficulty I was allowed an interview with the devoted lady; and,

oh! Monsieur, language cannot describe the bitterness of those moments!

Her affection was unchanged and unsubdued. She was calm and collected,

though there was the prospect of only a few hours' division between her

and eternity. Young and beautiful, though somewhat wasted by distress

and hunger, I could not look upon her resigned and heroic conduct but

as something too valuable for my possession, and only worthy of that

heaven to which she was hastening. We parted; and I left her with the

assurance that no means should be left untried to preserve her life.

I hurried to Robespierre, and met Danton coming out; a cold sick

shuddering rushed through my heart; nevertheless, I entered the bureau

of the tyrant, who commenced a rapid series of questions relative to

the defection of Dumouriez, (who had passed over to the enemy,) and the

state of the army of the North. Repeatedly did I attempt to introduce

the object of my visit, and as often did he foil me. The insatiate

monster! the consummate villain! At length I obtained a hearing,

described my services, promised the most implicit compliance with every

order he might give, provided the life of the countess was granted me

as a boon. 'Her attachment to the queen,' said he, 'has rendered her

conspicuous, and these are not times in which to suffer the milk of

human kindness to overflow the current of a just retribution.'--'Her

devotion to her mistress ought to excite admiration, Monsieur Citizen,'

returned I; 'but I will answer with my own existence that henceforth

she will cause no trouble, but bend to the will of the nation.'--'You

promise well,' said he, 'and, did it rest with me, the pardon might

be easily accomplished; but we want recruits to meet the enemy, and

they refuse to join our standard, lest, during their absence, the

aristocrats should again usurp the power, and revenge themselves on

the families and friends of those who are in the field. Young man,

I fear the case is hopeless.'--'You want trusty servants, Citizen,'

rejoined I,--'men on whom you can rely with confidence that they

will neither desert nor betray the interests of the nation. Save the

life of this innocent, and you bind me yours for ever.' He held me

for some time in conversation. I entreated, I implored,--nay more, I

wept! and the drops that were wrung from my eyes were like boiling and

scalding blood rushing from my heart. He seemed moved to compassion;

tears stole down his cheeks! Bah! the wretch was mocking me! no soft

distilment of generous sympathy was ever wormed from out his breast!

'I have an important duty for you to execute;' said he, 'perform

it with fidelity, and the pardon shall be granted,'--'But the time

is short,' remonstrated I; 'Citizen Danton----!' 'You are right,'

he answered, and, hastily snatching a piece of paper, he hurriedly

wrote a few lines, which he presented to me. 'This will stay the

execution,' he added; 'Danton is not to be trusted.'--'The pardon,

Monsieur Citizen!' exhorted I; 'let me but see her released, and I am

yours, soul and body!'--'The populace, my friend,' returned he; 'the

populace and Danton! Has she not seduced a brave officer from the

defence of his country? Believe me, she is more safe within the walls

of the Conciergerie than if exposed to popular violence.'--'As my wife,

Monsieur,' responded I, 'she will immediately return with me to the

army. Grant me her pardon and her liberty, let the rest fall upon my

head.'--'You are wilful,' said he, somewhat sternly; 'but take your

wish.' Again he wrote, and once more I received a document, that seemed

like renewed light, and hope, and life to me. 'You will return here,'

continued he, 'when your mission is accomplished; I have business for

you. Use despatch now, but do not fail hereafter.'

"With a bold step and a bounding heart I hurried from his presence,

and ran toward the prison. In one of the streets I met a _fiacre_

accompanied by the officers of justice, and I knew it was some poor

wretch whose hours were numbered; and, oh! how did my spirit exult in

the thought that Amelie--my own Amelie--would be rescued from a similar

fate! I stopped not to ascertain who the condemned prisoner was; but

with my quickest speed presented myself at the prison gate. I showed my

paper, the porter admitted me; and, oh! Monsieur, what tongue can tell

the joyous and eager delight that held a sainted fête within my breast!

In a few minutes I should hold her within my arms, should clasp her

in my embrace, and lead her forth to freedom. And yet I trembled: the

perspiration stood in big drops upon my face. I felt a sickness steal

over me; though not a fear, not a doubt arose in my mind of Amelie's

liberty. The head gaoler was engaged; but in a time,--though short, it

was an age to me,--he came; I delivered the document into his hands;

he read it, shook his head, and, whilst a suffocating sensation almost

stifled every faculty, I heard him say, 'I fear you are too late.

Amelie de M---- has already departed for the place of execution!'"

Here vivid recollection appeared to overcome the Frenchman's strength

of mind; he paced the deck athwart-ships with impetuous strides; the

picture of desolation was probably present to his imagination in all

its horrors; and Lord Eustace could not behold his apparent agony

unmoved, but he did not speak, rather preferring to leave nature to

its own operations. In a few minutes the captive grew more composed;

he again placed himself by his lordship's side, folded his arms, and

proceeded.

"Yes, my lord, she had indeed departed, and was the inmate of that

_fiacre_ I had passed on my hurried way to the prison. The truth

instantly flashed upon me; in my disregard for the sufferings of

another, I had consigned her to an ignominious end. I had the pardon

in my hand. I might be her murderer!--Might be? there was a hope in

that surmise; and, resuming the document, I flew rather than ran

towards the fatal spot. People stared at my headlong speed, and gave

way before me. I saw the guillotine, with the prostituted figure of

Liberty presiding over it. My breath began to fail; but yet I shouted.

There was a commotion in the crowd as I held up the paper high above

my head. I rushed forward. The few persons who had collected opened a

passage, and I reached the scaffold at the very moment the axe fell,

and the decapitated trunk of the young and beautiful, sent forth

its gush of blood to waste the fountain of life! At first I stood

speechless with horror and amazement; but when the head was raised, and

I saw those tresses I had loved to weave amongst my fingers, stained

with gore,--when I beheld the cheek that had been pressed to mine

still quivering in the last death-pang,--phrensy drove reason from

her seat. I raved till the air rang with my maledictions. I cursed

the Convention, and denounced the monsters Robespierre and Danton.

The guard were about to seize my person, when a young man caught me

by the arm, claimed me as his brother, and declared I was a lunatic,

escaped from the control of my keepers. He dragged me away with him to

his lodgings, and, when my fit of passion was passed, I recognised the

youth I had saved from drowning during the earthquake of Messina.

"That night we quitted Paris together, for he would not suffer me to

remain alone, and despair had fixed a melancholy upon my mind that

rendered all places alike to my despondency. For a time we sojourned

in the country; but my friend received orders to join the army

employed against Toulon, and I accompanied him. He had been a pupil

in the artillery school of Brienne; he was soon raised to eminence

by his skill and judgment, and the whole artillery department of the

army before Toulon was placed at his disposal. Through his talent

and intrepidity Toulon fell; and I obtained by his recommendation

a lucrative office, and ultimately rose through the several grades

to that in which you found me,--_capitaine de frégate_. Monsieur,

the youth of Messina, the artillery officer who snatched me from

the myrmidons of Robespierre, is now the First Consul of the French

nation,--Napoleon Buonaparte!"

Here Citizen Begaud ceased. The chase was closing nearly within hail,

and, without exchanging another word, Lord Eustace walked to the

gangway.

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote 28: The present King of the French.]

LINES

_Occasioned by the death of the Count Borowlaski, a Polish dwarf, whose

height was under thirty-six inches, and who died at Durham, on the 5th

of September last, aged ninety-eight._

A spirit brave, yet gentle, has dwelt, as it appears,

Within three feet of flesh for near one hundred years;

Which causes wonder, like his constitution, strong,

That one so _short alive_ should be _alive so long_!

J.S.

A CHAPTER ON WIDOWS.

Widows! A very ticklish subject to handle, no doubt; but one on which

a great deal may be said. An interesting subject, too,--what more so?

What class of persons in the universe so interesting as weed-wearing

women? We are not sure that on paper they have ever been treated as

they deserve. We don't think they have been considered as they ought

to be: their past, their present, and their future, have not been

speculated upon; their position in the world has not been decided.

They have simply been spoken of _as_ widows, in the gross: the various

circumstances of widowhood have never been distinguished; as if

those circumstances did not subdivide and classify, giving peculiar

immunities to some, and fixing peculiar obligations on others; as if

every good woman who has the fortune, or misfortune, to call in an

undertaker, is placed in precisely the same situation as far as society

is concerned, or ought to be judged or guided by the same rules. We

shall begin with a definition; not because any one can doubt what a

widow is, but because we have a reason.

A widow is--"a woman who has lost her husband." We must here premise

that it is no part of our present plan to say a syllable about those

whose husbands have taken themselves off--the dear departed,--and not

been heard of, Heaven knows how long: nor of those who have lost the

affection, and attention, and care of their husbands; for, however much

they may be widows as to the comforts and endearments of married life,

they are not widows for our purpose.

We shall define a widow in other words. A widow is--"a woman whose

husband is dead." This would not be sufficiently intelligible unless

we were to add "dead by due course of nature, accident, or physic,"

because there is such a thing as a man being dead in law; and as

we have ever carefully eschewed all things pertaining, directly or

indirectly, to that dangerous "essence," as far as volition could

assist us, so we intend to eschew them. We mean, then, dead in fact,

and comfortably buried, or otherwise safely disposed of.

And now, having settled a definition, let us proceed to the division of

our subject.

We propose to treat of young widows, middle-aged widows, and old

widows; to speak of them the truth, and nothing but the truth, and, if

not the whole of it, sufficient we trust to show that they have merited

our attention.

A young widow must be on the tender side of twenty-eight; the tough

side begins, and ten additional years limit, middle-aged widowhood;

while all from thirty-eight to a hundred must take rank, in this army

at least, as granny-dears.